ZR
by musiccfreakk44
Summary: Look, I know this will probably piss you guys off because it would piss me off. This isnt a Maximum Ride story. I started writing it and just got really into it, and didnt know where else to put it. But i SWEAR it isnt a waste of time. summary inside!
1. PREFACE

**Okay, this story is about a guy named Zach Rapparong. The whole fun of the story is that you have to wait to find out what his deal is. Where he lives is a lot like the society we live in now, technology wise, but with castles and rulers in place of democracy. That's all I can say =p. Please read the preface. Each chapter will explain a little bit more.**

Preface

Sometimes, I worry that I'm pushing myself _too_ far. At some point, your body has gotta give. What's the breaking point do you think? How long can you walk across a barren desert in 95 degree weather? Two or three weeks possibly if you have water. Sleeping is tougher. You have to find a covered spot thats also on raised ground so that you can avoid animals. AND you have to find somewhere secluded enough to make a fire, where it cant be seen when soldiers come scouting by looking for you. Not to mention food, which is almost impossible to find in the middle of nowhere. A backpack can only carry so many granola bars. But that's not even the worst of it. The worst part is waking up in the morning to the sun blasting down at you, knowing that today is going to be just the same as yesterday. Hair stuck to your skin, dirty clothes uncomfortably sweaty and disgusting, brushing your teeth with water from a water bottle and hoping to God that something good happens. But it wont. It never does. It's just an idea to think about while you walk, and walk, and walk; always ending up in a spot identical to the spot you slept in last night. So you can see why I'm wondering about pushing myself extensively.

That was my life only a week ago. Seven days ago I walked into the nearest town to refuel, and relax in a cheap motel for a little while before continuing on my merry way. Which is when i met a ghost from my past, somebody I was never hoping to see again. My family.

I blasted the hell out of there. Just for precaution, I'd died my blonde hair brown and placed blue contacts over my brown eyes. Just for even _more _precaution, I was wearing sunglasses. So even if my uncle saw me, the chances of him recognizing me were slim to none. I took a sharp left, then a right, then another left at the intersection; trying to remember every turn so I could find my way back to civilization. And _food. _And a _bed. _There was no way I was giving up my rare week of comfortability just because my uncle happened to be parading around the same streets. Not meaning to brag, but I'm a master of evasion. Just one or two more nights in town, and I'd blow this popsicle stand. I'd decided not to go back to the desert this time, six months surrounded by endless sand can have even the toughest of guys hallucinating. No, this time I'd try the forests. Not as safe, but plenty of trees overhead for cover. It'd do.

By now, I was all the way on the other side of town. I guess you could call it the ghetto. There were grungy old apartments layered one on top of the other, each with its very own fire escape and small circle window. Not the kind of place you want to end up. Also not the kind of place anybody would ever come looking for me.

I continued down this 'street', but it honestly didn't even look like it could fit a car. Like everything else around it, it was small and cheaply built. Nothing but the best for our loyal taxpayers, right. I sighed and kicked a stone. Then kept walking until I caught up with my stone, and kicked it again. It's actually pretty amusing. You can even get two or three stones going, see how long you can keep kicking all of them before they roll into a sewer of something. I chucked at the thought. But the way I live, there just isn't time for a good game of monopoly.

A window on the second floor shot open, sticking a bit in the beginning but finally groaning upward. A middle aged woman with mousy brown hair stuck her head out, waving a fork around like it was a sword. An apron clung around her body and her makeup was too heavy for her drooping eyelids. "HEY. Boy! Watch the petunias! You step on them one more time and I swear I'll come down there with my wooden spoon!"

Well well well, what do you know. There actually WERE flowers below my feet. They matched the tone. Dirty and dying. I thought about my own sword, resting comfortably in my bag, and knew that I could handle her wooden spoon. But I stepped off of the flowers anyway, keeping my head down and not responding.

I'm sorry, where are my manners. By now you must be curious. Why are you running away? Who's chasing you? Why do you hate your family? And probably most importantly; who the heck _are you. _My name is Zach Rapparong, and I'm a traitor. That's all I can say for now.

**LOOK, YOU JUST TOOK ALL THAT TIME TO READ IT. YOU MIGHT AS WELL WASTE TWO MORE SECONDS AND REVIEW.**


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

So lets continue from where I left off. Where were we.

Okay so yeah. Dirty old alley with apartments. Me. Walking down it.

By now, I had no idea where in the world I was. All of those left and rights were still etched into my brain, but they were meaningless. It would take me a good forty minutes to go back the way I came. There had to be a quicker way out of here. Plus, I was hungry. I jingled the few coins that I had left in my pocket and sighed. I'd have to get some more money soon, and quickly.

How do I get money, you ask? Well, it's a tricky situation. I cant exactly go and apply for a job. I haven't got any papers, or identification. And nobody can find out who I am. So that option is out. Now look, I'm not proud of everything I do. But I need cash. Sometimes I steal, but only if I get really desperate. I keep trying to convince people that I'm on their side, and stealing from them doesn't exactly help my cause. So I make a living by other means. Still illegal, but slightly less frowned upon. Like street fighting, for example. I've never lost a fight.

In my head, I was formulating a plot. Keep walking down this street until you find a grungy diner or something, grab a quick bite, and bolt back to my motel. You cant trust those motel rooms. I don't have many possessions; It's kind of necessary to travel light, but what I do have is practically my life. A small bag with non-perishable food, my sword, whatever money I've got, and water bottles. A sleeping bag, one change of clothes, and a guitar. It may not sound like much, but even THAT is a lot to lug around with you every day. As pathetic as it sounds, these possessions are the only friends I've got. Getting one of them stolen was not an option.

I kept a quick pace down the street, eyes to the ground. It had rained recently, but thank heaven it wasn't raining now. I hate the rain, silly little pet peeve of mine. Every once in a while I'd catch my reflection in a puddle, and I tried not to look. I didn't look like me, thats for sure. But you could also say I looked like I belonged on this crummy street. My fake brown hair was starting to turn blonde at the roots, making me look like one of those tools with two hair colors. My face had at least two layers of sand and dirt caked on, and my clothes hadn't been removed, let alone washed, in over a week. Whatever. If I was a beauty queen I would've had a mental breakdown a long time ago. Maybe I could get a makeover, doll myself up. How much fun would that be. For all you people with no sense of humor, I'm a guy. So that was obviously sarcasm.

My feet were aching badly right now. With all the walking that I did every day, I was growing permanent sores and welts on them. I couldn't recall the last time I'd splurged on shoes. My current footwear choice had holes ripping through its holes. The soles were so thin that I could feel the prick of every rock that I stepped on. They really couldn't even be called sneakers anymore. More like socks. Cheap, ugly, disgusting socks.

The ache slowly spread from my toes up through my legs to my stomach. I was starving. And this was bad news; being that I'm a _dick_ when I'm starving. Normally it's not a problem, because there aren't any people around for me to piss off. But here in the middle of a city, if I had a mini temper tantrum, it would probably scare the hell out of a lot of people. And score me a crap load of unwanted attention. Not just because I'm so strong and devilishly handsome either. More on that later.

Point is, I needed food stat.

It took another ten minutes of walking down the road, but finally a crappy little diner cropped up. It was run down, but right now it looked like my own little piece of heaven. There wasn't even a door, just a jagged old hole in the wall with what looked like a shower curtain blocking it. Ah well, I wasn't picky. With two bounds I was nearly running for the entrance.

Tentatively, I pushed the curtain aside and was greeted with the foul smell of beer and grease. It was dark, probably to disguise years worth of dirt and grime on the tables and floor. I was standing in a tiny entrance way, with an opening to the left and an opening right in front of me. One led to the bar, the other led to the kitchen. I followed the sounds of people to the door on the left and pulled my sunglasses off. It was already dark, the sunglasses were just making it harder. Plus, everybody who wandered into this place was either drunk or couldn't afford to go into town. None of them had seen the wanted posters with my face pasted on them. The boyous laughter coming from the bar area confirmed my suspicions. Everybody in here was too gone to even remember their _own_ name. I liked this place.

I turned the corner of the tiny entrance way and entered the restaurant area. There was a bar up against the wall, and a few men sat around it drinking beers and talking obnoxiously. I gave them a once over; force of habit. All of them were muscled, you could see it through their short sleeved shirt. They could be construction workers, or maybe just meat heads. Their posture was terrible though, half of them were tripping as they sat down, which is tough to do. Even if they hadn't all been drunk out of their minds, I still didn't think they'd be fighters. I could handle all four of them easily without having to burn this place down. They looked no better then me, clothes ragged, red eyes with heavy bags underneath. I felt sorry for them, stuck living in this part of town. Especially where we were, in Haydom, which is considered one of the nicest cities in the world. Hopefully the sympathy would wash away with the first beer. I hated sappy emotions.

I pulled out the first stool that I came to, the one furthest from the guys drinking. The bartender, a girl who looked to be in her late teens to early twenties, dragged her feet over to where I sat. She looked up through her dark, blunt bangs and gestured to the bar behind her. "Can I help you?" She mumbled in my direction. All the while, the four guys at the other end of the bar were jeering at her and calling her over to them. She flipped them off with class that made me like her.

"Something strong to start out with. Whiskey, vodka. Give me what you got. " This was why I had no money left, I thought bitterly. Bars were easy to take solace in, they let you forget whatever shit you were dealing with. They also had a funny way of eating through your cash.

"Coming right up." She smiled at me, and walked back over to the drinks.

"Hey! Hey Linda!" One of the big guys shouted at her, giving her one of the creepiest smiles I'd ever seen. "That whiskey you grabbin there? Why don't you grab us both a glass and come sit on my lap for a bit." He looked her up and down greedily and she just rolled her eyes, walking back towards me with the full glass.

"Here you go." She set the glass down in front of me.

"Come on! Linda baby! What's that bastard got that I don't! Just look at me!" The big guy, who I guess was the leader of the little pack, stood up and shook his butt in our direction, receiving laughter and high fives. I gagged.

"How do you put up with them?" I asked her quietly. Normally I choose to just stay out of people's lives. Cliché as it is, I don't _have _friends. Never have, never will. But I was already in a bad mood, and these guys were pissing me off.

She sighed. "Comes with the job description unfortunately." I nodded and downed my glass of whiskey. The burn of the drink hitting my throat was refreshing, and I could feel that slight numbness coming over me. Linda nervously glanced back over her shoulder. "Listen," she said. "I know this might be weird, but do you mind if I stay over here on this side of the bar? Those guys are kind of creeping me out."

I nodded carefully. It would take more then one glass of whiskey for me to let my guard down. But this girl seemed alright.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking at my empty glass. "You drank that fast! Hang on I'll get you a refill." She walked back to the drinks, and this time the guys only watched her and didn't speak. For their sakes, I hoped they left it that way.

I smiled at her gratefully as she placed the second glass of whiskey in front of me. This one I'd drink slower. Didn't want her to think I was an alcoholic or something. She moaned out of exhaustion and collapsed into a chair. "Thanks so much for letting me chill over here." She said with a smile. "You don't actually have to talk to me, just pretend were in an important conversation." I just grinned a bit and nodded. She shot me a quizzical look. "Hm, your not a talker are you. That's okay. Sometimes talking to much is just annoying."

I laughed. "I can be a talker. Depends on the moment."

"Is this the moment?" She asked, leaning over the bar a bit.

"Could be." I grinned, leaning back. Were we flirting? This was unfamiliar territory for me. I was trained to be capable in every situation, and had always had people skills. I just never got to use them much. But no girls had ever remotely shown interest in me. To them I was just a traitor. And a freak.

"So, I've never seen you around before." Linda said conversationally. "And I don't know if you've noticed, but this place isn't exactly a tourist trap. What brings you to our humble abode?"

NOW, I was in familiar territory. Make up an excuse Zach. One that's believable, but not too conventional. Okay here goes. "My brother just moved here." I replied in my perfected acting tone. "I was helping him unpack." Behind my well practiced mask I was sweating bullets. It was a long three seconds before she let loose a chuckle.

"Well if he moved onto this street he has my sympathies."

I sighed in relief. She bought it. "You don't live here?" I asked.

"God no! If I had to live and work here I'd have hung myself by now." Surprisingly, I found myself laughing with her. It'd been years since I'd laughed with any real emotion. Must be the whiskey.

"Yeah. It didn't have the fancy italian restaurants or the spa that I need in a neighborhood." I replied sarcastically.

She chuckled. "If you walk for two more blocks theres one guy who can give you an illegal tattoo."

"Is that what you guys do for entertainment out there?" I asked; amused.

"That, or we see who can dodge cars for the longest on the highway."

"I bed I'd kick ass at that." We fell into a comfortable smiley, me sipping my whiskey slowly; enjoying the flavor. I noticed that the bar hadn't gotten any more crowded in the half hour that I'd been here. The guys here must be regulars. Ouch. Poor Linda.

"LINDDAA. OH LINNDAA." Speak of the devil. Linda gave me an exasperated look, which I returned with a sympathetic one. Slowly, she turned around and regretfully faced the men.

"Yes?"

"I'll take another beer please." He slurred, smiling at her. "And _you_" Linda gagged, then walked over to the beer tap.

"Whatever's on tap coming up. One for two aint bad."

"Aww don't be like that sweetheart." He grinned, with a kissy face at the end. My hand curled into a fist on instinct. This was the first almost friend I'd made in god knows how long. I'd be on stand by if this got out of hand. Slowly, I stood up from my stool. Linda caught my eye, and recognized my tense fighter stance immediately. Panic entered her eyes, and she shook her head violently. 'It's fine' she mouthed. Unwillingly, I sat back down; settling to give the dick a death glare instead.

"Here." She said disgustedly, as she slammed the glass onto the countertop. "Enjoy." He reached to grab her wrist, but she jerked away just in time.

"Don't you _ever_ touch me." She spat at him, before turning on her heels and marching back to where I was sitting. I opened my mouth to say something but she just put up a hand to silence me. Her head dropped into her arms and for a moment we just sat there quietly.

"I just want you to know." I whispered quietly, "That at your command I can take all four of them. Easily."

She laughed humorlessly. "I don't mean to undermine your pride, but I doubt that. These guys are the neighborhood construction workers/ moving crew. Theyre tough." She paused and her bangs flopped across her forehead. "Didn't you see them today when you were moving in?"

I sighed inwardly. People always underestimate me. I'm probably as strong as ten men, but for some reason my physique is just average to the strong side. I was lacking the hulk muscles. "What? Oh, yeah. He didn't have that much stuff so we just moved it all in ourselves." Phew. Close one. Almost blew my cover.

"Oh." She said, content with my excuse. "You know, in all the craziness, I didn't even get your name."

"Um…"

"LINDA!" For once, I was glad that the jerk had interrupted us. I needed some time to fake a name. "IM ALREADY DONE WITH MY BEER!" He bellowed, with a hearty laugh. "COME BACK OVER HERE SWEETHEART."

"Ugh!" Linda groaned. "That was already his fourth one! Maybe I should just cut him off." Then I couldn't contain it. I let out a loud laugh. Only four beers and he was being _this much _of an asshole? Some people just can't hold down their liquor.

"WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT." He was screaming now, in an empty bar. He'd officially lost all control. "YOU WANNA GO BOY."

I didn't respond, just stood up from my school and smiled confidently. "Sit down." Linda whispered urgently, but it was too late. Jackass number one was already charging at me with his fists held high.

* * *

It wasn't even a fair fight. I feel slightly sorry for those guys. By the end of five minutes all four of them were kneeling at my feet, groaning pitifully. I'll spare you the specifics; but you could say that a toddler with basic fighting knowledge could've taken them down. They were drunk and clumsy and off their footing, just like I'd predicted. All I had to do was push them off balance then hit them in a pressure point. Childs play.

Linda had watched, wide eyed, from behind the bar. To be honest, I'd almost forgotten about her. It felt good to let loose a little bit, move my muscles doing something other then walking endlessly. Slowly, I turned around, praying that I hadn't scared her so badly that she didn't want to talk to me. Her eyes were either awed or frightened, but i didn't know which. I grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

"Um, I can leave if you want." I muttered.

Then she started laughing. And laughing. And laughing. She was nearly doubled over behind the counter trying to hold herself up. "I think I was wrong about you." She gasped. "You can hold your own."

_______

**A:N--I happen to think that author's notes at the beginning of a story are annoying, so the copyright and all that will be down here.**

**COPYRIGHT: I actually DO own all of this =D Don't steal any characters, plots, settings, etc. without asking first. **

**OKAY HERES HOW MY STORY IS GOING TO WORK. REVIEW WITH THE FOLLOWING CODE WORD, AND ILL GIVE YOU A PREVIEW OF THE NEXT CHAPTER. A PARAGRAPH FROM IT OR SOMETHING. THATS THE ONLY WAY TO KNOW THOUGH. OTHERWISE YOU JUST HAVE TO WAIT!**

**code word: eminem. who is also jesus in rapper form. **


	3. IM MOVING THIS STORY!

**AUTHORS NOTE:**

**EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY IMPORTANT.**

**FIrst of all, thanks to ****UNDERLANDERfromtheOVERLAND, lunarecplise3, physics chick, 5253Racer, and SignedSealedWritten** **for reviewing!Go you guys! You made my day. **

**Lunareclipse3, 5253Racer, and SignedSealedWritten suggested I should move this story to an original fiction site, which I didn't even know they had. Looking back, that was pretty dumb.**

**So I'm moving it to fictionpress (.com); which is literally the EXACT same site--same set up, format, basically the same thing except the stories are original. **

**Thing is, they have this lame "spam blocking" policy where you can't publish until two days after you make your account. So by the end of January 23rd, I should have this story moved over to Fictionpress (.com.) =D**

**If you want to keep following it (which I suggest you do) I already have chapter two finished. It'll be up tomorrow too. Everything is staying the same. My username will still be musiccfreakk44, and this story will still be called ZR. As for what genre it's going to be in, I think I'm going to put it in the fantasy genre just because that's where the majority of the stories are. Therefor that's where it'll get the most reads, since I couldn't narrow this story down to just one genre yet. See the logic!**

**Okay, so thanks again for reading the story and I hope you keep reading!**


	4. story up!

**THE STORY IS UP ON FICTIONPRESS(.COM)**

**http:// www.(fictionpress). com/s/2767747/1/**


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